


The Lost Boys: Fresh Blood

by iilost_boyii



Category: The Lost Boys - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I mean, I'm just having fun, M/M, Punk, Santa Carla (Lost Boys), Strong Female Characters, Summer Romance, Vampires, but we love them, even david is kinda stupid in this, please don't judge too harshly, poc characters, the boys are all idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:59:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8004904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iilost_boyii/pseuds/iilost_boyii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer of 2017 is a good one for the Lost Boys; with Max still infatuated with his little Emerson pets, the boys get free reign to do whatever they like, whenever the like. One broken record causes them to cross paths with a few new individuals that challenge their way of life. And Dwayne finds himself loving the challenge, and the person said challenge comes with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stressed Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Chrissie are looking forward to their summer away from home. Leaving behind their hometown in North Carolina, the polar-opposites arrive in Santa Carla, California at the height of tourist season. While checking out the infamous Boardwalk, a certain blonde stoner belonging to the Lost Boys picks a fight with the wrong cousins.

Stepping out from the crowd of people unloading from his gate and seeing Chrissie for the first time since Thanksgiving, 2012, Julian could not believe the young woman that he was seeing with his two eyes. It was impossible! But there was the sign in her hands, with the name “Julian Bernini” written in her handwriting. And yeah, he could kind of see that old familiar smile, underneath at least twenty different facial piercings.

“Chris?” He asked uncertainly. “Hey, you!” the familiar voice of his cousin met his ears, concluding that this was, in fact, Chrissie. Allowing his bags to drop to his feet, the soon to be high school graduate reached towards his cousin and let the older girl just about smother him in a bear hug. “Wow, just look at you, Jules. You’re growing up on me!” Pulling him away, she inspected every inch of his body as though memorizing him. “Uncle Sal says you’re already about to graduate from high school. Damn, seems like just yesterday you were shitting your diapers and eating ants.” Julian laughed. “Only because you made me eat them!”

The comment earned him a light swat before she turned to pick up the discarded bags at his feet and began guiding him out of the airport. “But look at you, Chris. You could probably set off a dozen metal detectors with all those piercings! And is that a tattoo on your arm?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Oh lord, not you, too. I’m a grown ass woman, I’m allowed to get piercings and tats if I want them. And don’t you go trying to tell me that ‘I’ll never get a respectable job looking like this’, cuz let me tell you something: if owning a record store in Santa Carla has taught me anything, it’s that the only way to blend in is make yourself stand out. I don’t need two straightedge, stick-in-the-muds telling me what to do with my body.” 

“Alright, alright, I won’t nag you. It just kinda caught me off guard. I mean, last time I saw you, you were this super feminine, goody-two-shoes captain of the cheer team. And what made you decide to do all this to your hair?”

To add on to this new, “Hardcore” Chrissie, she had completely buzzed off all the hair on the right side of her head (to the scalp), leaving the rest of her hair long and wildly curling.

She shrugged. “I felt like it. I mean, why not? It’s hot as balls here in California, and having thick hair just makes it all the more insufferable to go outside. At least, during the daytime.” Julian nodded. Fair enough. Who the hell was he to judge? Especially when she was the only reason he was able to get away from the Purgatory he knew as his home. At least, until summer ended.

Exiting the airport, Julian felt himself go a little breathless as he drowned in a wave of boiling hot air. “Welcome to California, my good bitch: Hot enough to literally set shit on fire. My truck is over here, follow me.” She pointed towards a heavily battered old truck that was the color of slime and looked like it hadn’t seen a wash in decades.

Julian made no comment about how disgusting the vehicle looked (this truck had actually belonged to Chrissie’s grandfather, who had died when Julian was still just a baby, and Chrissie was very protective of all aspects of it) but he was determined that if he got nothing else done that summer, he would get this thing to a car wash. 

The duo threw his luggage into the bed of the truck and Chrissie hopped in to turn on the engine and get the AC working.

“You know, Jules, I really am glad you wanted to fly in to see me, and spend the summer at my place. It’s been awhile. I’ve been worried about, you know, leaving you there all by yourself. I know you were having just as hard a time as I was with some of your own demons.” She had to raise her voice a bit over the hiss of the air conditioner and the engine, but Julian didn’t think it was that necessary, as they were seated right next to one another. “It’s fine, I understand. I’m just glad you’ve been getting by alright here. Aunty Joan and Victor never stop fussing over you, wondering if you’re okay.”

Victor was Chrissie’s new stepdad, and Julian got the impression he was also the reasoning behind his cousin’s ongoing “rebellious stage”. He was a big, tough, White Dude ™ ; a former military man with buzzed hair and always smelt like shitty American beer and cigars. He wasn’t a bad guy, technically. He loved and respected Joan and her family as best he could. He just preferred things being traditional; Girls wore dresses, boys played with trucks, kids ought to be seen and not heard, so on so forth. Julian could handle it, but Chrissie was going mental. Maybe because she really didn’t have much by means of escape from him after he finally moved in. She packed up all her shit as soon as she turned eighteen, and never looked back.

“Well, we’re here now. Just stick with me kid, we’ll have the adventure of a lifetime!” And with that, she slammed her palm down on the dashboard with a holler, bringing the sound system to life as it blared out the most atrocious noise Julian had ever heard. And while he did grimace a little as the thrashing guitars and screeching vocals grated his ears, it was seeing Chrissie enjoy herself while trying to play air guitar and drive simultaneously that made him start grinning like an idiot. Because it was then that he truly realized Chrissie hadn’t been at all happy back home, not one bit.

 

It was after an hour listening to obscure punk music and catching up with his cousin before they reached their destination. “Santa Carla: Murder Capital of the World” the billboard read in giant spray painted letters. “Just like in all those pictures you sent me, the first night you flew in.”

“Yup, told you I wasn’t shitting you. Still want to spend the next three months here?” Julian sent Chrissie a wicked grin. “How bad could it be?”

 

 

 

“No, I’m telling you, it may smell fucking disgusting, but hands down, it is the best Chinese food in town.” The duo pulled up to Chrissie’s apartment a laughing mess about fifteen minutes after first arriving in town. The energetic young woman insisted that, as a sort of “initiation” into Santa Carla and all of its oddball glory, Julian had to have some of Santa Carla’s infamous Chinese food. And not just any Chinese food place would do. No, they had to go all the way into the shadier part of town to get it from her favorite shop near the Boardwalk.

“Grease is literally leaking through the bag, and I don’t think I saw one person in that kitchen who looked remotely as though they were of Chinese descent. I swear to God Chrissie, if you end up giving me food poisoning on my first night here, I will rain down fire upon you!” Julian unbuckled his seatbelt while still giggling, and his little speech merely got him an eyeroll from his companion. “Yeah, whatever Hamlet. Go get your shit, I’ll get our gourmet dinner inside.”

Hopping down from the truck on to the concrete below, Julian could feel the last of the day’s heat radiating up into the soles of his feet and through to the rest of his body. It was dusk, and the sun had begun sinking below the horizon. The sky looked like a five year old had splattered a canvas in every shade of yellow, orange, red, and purple it could find.

Looking down the street from where Chrissie had parked, he could see the road slope down, and just beyond it, all of Santa Carla rose up, seeping out towards the ocean like a wave of sleek oil. The buildings around him were old and covered in spray paint, many having their ground floor windows boarded up. He thought back to that message, left for all to see on the back of that bill board: “Murder Capital of the World.”

“Chrissie, are we safe here?” Julian asked as he pulled the duffle bag full of books and clothes from the truck bed. “Safe? Uh, I’d like to think I’ve been doing pretty okay since I first moved here. I mean, I’m still alive, aren’t I?” She was fiddling with her keys, the takeout being balanced on one hip as she searched for the key to the front door. “Why do you ask?” Julian cast a glance over his shoulder. Just down the street from him, two Latino children were staring at them as though they knew something he did not.

“No reason.” Detecting a change in his tone, Chrissie spun around to see what had him spooked. “Oh, don’t mind them. I sometimes see them hanging around after dark, they’re harmless. Ah-ha!” The door clicked open, and Julian felt himself being ushered in as he continued to stare at those kids. Something about their faces, they just didn’t look right.

“Honey, I’m home!” Chrissie called out in a mocking sing-song voice whilst Julian dropped his bag and rushed to the nearest window to get another peek at those kids. “Oh wait, I don’t have a partner. Ah well.” Pushing the curtain that smelled like cigarette smoke back, the boy nervously searched the street for any sign of them. 

Gone. But how? It hadn’t even really been more than ten or fifteen seconds! But then again, why does he care? They’re kids, and it’s the summer time. Of course they’d still be out and about, having fun. Even so, these comforting thoughts did little to calm the rising anxiety he felt in the pit of his stomach. “Dude, are you seriously spying on the neighbors? I told you, they’re harmless. Never pegged you for a racist.”

“What? No, I’m not- I mean, that isn’t what I was...I’m not racist against small Mexican children, Chrissie. That would be pretty hypocritical of me.” 

Turning to face his cousin, thinking of a conversation topic that would lead away from matters of racism (he was too tired to discuss something like that) he found himself caught utterly and entirely off guard at the sight of her apartment. “Did a hurricane fly through here or something?” He found himself staring at mountains of pizza boxes, dirty laundry (some of which he wasn’t even sure was actually Chrissie’s) countless beer bottles and cigarette butts...this place was a mess!

The girl behind the mess shrugged and swept her arm across one particular pile, revealing a dining room table that had been buried beneath. The mountain of garbage fell to the ground with a loud clatter. “I mean, I could do a better job with the housekeeping, yeah. It’s just been so busy at the shop, things kinda got away from me.” Throwing the takeout on said table, she turned and approached what Julian could only assume was the kitchen and pulled two dishes from the sink.

There was a pause in her actions. Lifting the plates to her face, she sniffed them, made an odd face with a half shrug that indicated “It could smell a lot worse,” and ran them under the faucet for ten seconds. Julian’s skin was crawling at this point.

“Chrissie, this is disgusting! How can you live like this? Seriously, how? This has to go against every health code, letting your apartment stay like this.” He began gathering up a few articles of clothing, a look of disgust on his face, and moved them to start a pile on the only empty surface in the apartment, which also just so happened to be the couch he was supposed to be sleeping on that night.

“Well, sorry, your Highness,” she began sarcastically while tossing the plates carelessly onto the table. “Like I said, I was going to clean, stuff just got out of hand. One of the girls I hired just quit on me, and I have to cover her shifts. If it’s going to be such a big deal you can always go sleep on the roof or something.”

Julian paused in his frenzied sorting. He’d insulted her. “Chris, I...didn’t mean to offend you.” Dropping the armload of jeans he’d gathered up on the couch, he tried to keep his hands busy by fussing with a hole in the grey Little League shirt he’d chosen to wear on his flight over.

“What you’re doing for me, agreeing to take me in for the summer, it was very nice of you. And I have missed you a lot, believe me, I have! You and I were like brother and sister, and not having you living less than a car ride away really bummed me out.” Upon hearing this, Chrissie, who had busied herself with opening a new package of cigs, looked over with an expression of sympathy. “I’ll try and be a bit more respectful of your and your household. Just, I don’t know, don’t expect me to just ‘go with the flow’ all the time. You’ve changed so much, and it’s a lot to take in and process.”

She sighed. “Apology accepted. You always were a bit of a germaphobe. Tomorrow’s Sunday, so I can open up shop a little later and get a head start on cleaning this place up before work. But you’ll have to help me, bozo.” This made Julian smile a bit, turning his gaze to meet Chrissie’s. “Okay, fair enough. Now let me wash those dishes properly before we eat.”

The food wasn’t too bad, for saying some of it looked and smelt a tad questionable. And after they’d thrown away the last of the boxes and tidied up the dining room area a bit, he set himself on to the task of ridding the kitchen sink of all it’s contents. Chrissie met up with him after saying she had to run out and get some more beer and had a quick smoke break. 

Entering the kitchen, an eight pack of beer in hand, Julian was given a hard pat on the back by Chrissie. “Dude, I said we’d do this tomorrow, relax! You must be exhausted from all that traveling.” 

Julian shrugged. “I mean, kinda. Maybe a little. But there are actually studies saying that washing dishes can reduce stress, and even-” “Nerd!” She cut her younger cousin off with a yell. “What’s to be so stressed out about, little buddy? It’s summer vacation, ‘no more teachers, no more books’, you know the song.” “Just because it’s break time, doesn’t mean all my problems magically go away, Chrissie.”

This gave the girl cause to frown. “So what’s up then?” Julian avoided her gaze as he pulled another grimy cup from the pile of dirty dishes and started scrubbing it. “What else would an almost-graduate be worrying about pre-graduation? College, having to move out, other stuff…” “Ah. I remember this. You already start on applications?”

He nodded, his scrubbing getting a little more rough. “A few schools have even answered back. Every last one of them was just a big, fat N-O. Including USF.”

USF was a college located about four hours away from where Julian and his family currently lived, and he’d been dreaming of attending there since he first visited it for a science fair being held on campus in the fifth grade. It was his dream school, and one of the few things that comforted him during the difficult and friendless years of middle and high school. Chrissie knew this, and she recognized the look of devastation on her beloved cousin’s face.

“Oh Jules, I’m so sorry. But maybe it’s not all bad. You can always apply again next year, and take some community college courses while you wait.” “That’s what my parents said. But truth be told, I think they want me to stick to community college. Dad especially wants to keep me at home. He’s still convinced that my interest in human psychology will pass and one day I’ll actually want to take over the ‘family business’.”

Julian’s father ran a small gas station located on highway 19. For his first job, a thirteen year old him had been roped into helping out for the summer, and it proved to be the most boring summer of his life. All the customers were old, racist white people that treated him like some kind of ape or they were young assholes in need of a refill on their journey to wherever it was they were planning on going. Sometimes Julian would catch himself wishing they would invite him to tag along, though he knew it was an unreasonable thing to wish for.

Chrissie kinda laughed. “If I’m remembering correctly, you were a terrible gas jockey! And I’m sure your parents will do everything in their power to support you, even if you do decide to take a different path than the one they wanted for you.”

“I know that...but...I don’t know Chris, they just get this look on their faces whenever I mention wanting to go into psychiatry. I might as well be telling them I want to become a Satanist.” “Well, you and I were sadly born into a very old fashioned family, my boy. I think they still believe most mental ailments can just be prayed away by Jesus. But whatever, dude, just say ‘fuck you’ and go show ‘em wrong.”

“They’re my parents, Chrissie, I can’t do that to them. Not after everything else that they’ve done for me. Unlike you, I don’t really have a good reason to rebel against my parents.” Chris grabbed Julian’s wrist, forcing him to stop scrubbing the plate in his hands, before all the enamel came off of it. 

“If you ask me, any dream is worth rebelling for. So stop stressing about choosing between your passion and your parents and just let loose for a while. Be a kid for a couple weeks, at the very least. Because once your youth is gone, it’s gone, there’s no getting it back.”

Julian furrowed his brow. “What does-” “Just trust me, you nerd! Go to a couple shows, break a few hearts, just live a little! I don’t want you spending the rest of your summer stress-washing my dishes. Okay?” 

The two stared at one another for a long moment.

“Okay. But I’ll need something productive to do while I’m here.” Chrissie grinned. “Well, why don’t you come help out in my shop? We’ll wait a couple days while you settle in, but you know, I think having you around wouldn’t be so bad. You could learn to run the register, alphabetize the records, whatever you wanted.” 

Julian pondered the idea. “You sure you want to be stuck with me at work as well as at home? You’ll kind of have no escape from me.” She laughed. “You’re not so bad. So, can I take that as a ‘Yes, Chrissie, I’ll help in your store and stop stressing over stupid shit when I’m supposed to be on vacation while simultaneously wasting my youth’?”

“Maybe not all that other crap, but it’s definitely a yes from me.”


	2. Like a Broken Record

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys fuck with David's shit, which is a major no-no. Dwayne gets blackmailed into running errands and meets a newcomer along the way. Julian starts his first day at Mozart's record shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I'm so sorry! I actually LITERALLY forgot about this story. There's been a lot of stuff and it sorta fell out of my head. Please forgive me. There are a few more notes at the end, mainly regarding anyone who might want/need to contact me.

David woke up that night knowing something was very, very wrong. First of all, he was one of the last ones to wake up, which never happens. He was always the first to rise, just a little after the sun had actually sunk below the horizon so that you could still look out and see all the oranges and golds and indigos that painted the sunset. But not tonight. It was already pitch dark outside, and not a one of his brothers were to be found.

Dropping down to the floor of their cavern, David flipped right side up midair and managed to stick a rather graceful landing on his feet. Reaching for where his long coat had been discarded on the sand and stone riddled ground, the vampire pulled it on and mussed around with his hair while pondering exactly why he felt so wrong.

The infamous platinum blonde mullet had long been shaved off, leaving him with regular, short, messy locks that were a few shades darker than he ever remembered seeing them. 

Times had changed, and the Lost Boys had to change with it. That included questionable fashion trends and haircuts worth cringing over. Well, except for maybe Dwayne. His long hair was pretty easy to pull off in virtually any age. Which was good news for everyone else, because that means no one had to try and convince the brooding vampire to cut it. Because if you even tried getting a pair of scissors near his general person, he’d snap your neck in a millisecond.

Hushed voices met David’s ears as he lazily strolled towards the hub of their hideout, and then it hit him. That was why he felt so off; the boys were never quiet. Even when they were all recovering from particularly long and vigorous hunts they still managed to joke and pick on one another. No one in Santa Carla could tell them what to do or how to behave (excluding Max) and because of that, every night was a party for them.

So why, then, were they whispering now?

“Holy shit, holy shit, we are so fucked!”  
“‘We’? When the fuck did this become a ‘we’ situation? You broke it, dumbass!”  
“Maybe if we hide it under the rug, he won’t notice.”  
“That is literally the stupidest idea I have ever heard, Paul.”  
“I don’t hear any other suggestions, you little rat!”

“Evening, David.” The blonde looked over to Dwayne, who sat reclined by the entrance way with his feet kicked up and arms crossed in front of his chest. Laddie was perched nearby with a couple of objects they had taken from the previous night’s victims.

The trio that consisted of Paul, Marko, and a very exasperated Star spun around to see their leader already looking very tired, and very menacing.

“Hey’a, Davey. Did you sleep well?” Paul smiled whilst he and Marko pressed closer together in a clear attempt to hide whatever they broke. “What the fuck did you idiots do?”

“No idea what you’re talking about, David. We’ve been hanging out all night talking about…” Marko trailed off, thinking for a second. Paul decided to interject. “Sports.” David cocked an eyebrow. “Sports?” “Yup. Love me some good ol’ American sports...stuff...right Star?” The dark haired girl shot her roommates a dirty look.

Feeling one of his eyes start to twitch, David heaved a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dwayne, damage report.” “They broke your ‘Meat is Murder’ record.” The Two-Dumb-Blondes froze up in a panic as their leader turned a furious look in their direction.

“You did fucking what?” He roared. The three subordinates standing before David cowered (though Star had no reason to, she was the only one there who actively attempted to stop them from snooping through David’s things) and young Laddie froze in his spot by Dwayne, toy trucks in hand quickly forgotten. “We’re sorry, David, it was an accident!” 

“You jokers know better than to go through my shit,” he threatened.

Reaching forward, David latched on to each boys head with clawed hands and slammed them together at full force, causing both to collapse. Star moved to place a soothing hand on David’s shoulder, flipping the personality switch in her brain from “annoyed stepsister” to “empathetic and kindly motherly figure”.

“Oh man,” Marko groaned while rubbing a gloved hand over his wound. Paul just sort of lay there, motionless. No doubt he was unconscious, or too dazed from the combination of a head wound and whatever lethal concoction of drugs he had taken the second he woke up. 

Ice blue eyes looked a little past their idiotic forms and saw the remains of his record scattered on one of the many rugs they had spread out around the fountain. “What the fuck were you two thinking?” David asked. The little runt shrugged. “I dunno, we weren’t used to being up before you, thought it would be a good opportunity to look through some of the stuff you’ve got lying around.”

“So you both specifically went for the box marked ‘David’s music: morons keep out’?” “Yeah, kind of. But when we saw you had like five albums from the Smiths, we kinda lost it and started joking around.” Marko squirmed a bit when he felt David begin glaring daggers at him. 

“Sorry! I just, had no idea you actually liked The Smiths. Always kinda saw you as Guns n’ Roses kind of guy. Anyway, Paul being stoned off his ass per usual, he ended up dropping the record and, well, the rest is history.”

“The both of you are going to be history in five seconds if you don’t cough up the money to replace that.” Lightly brushing off Star’s gentle grasp, the oldest of the group took up the most threatening position he could manage and held out his hand. 

“What? You’re shitting me!”  
“I shit you not, now, hand it over!”  
“Who the fuck even buys vinyl anymore, David?”  
“I-the-fuck-do, asshat!”

Star spoke up. “David, I don’t mind paying for the record. Dwayne and I should have stopped them from fucking around with your stuff.” The dark haired young man looked over at Star in annoyance at being dragged into all of this. She ignored him. “I’m sorry. Just, let me-” 

“Star, while I appreciate the thought, Marko needs to learn his lesson for going about touching my things without permission. So does Paul.” David then turned to Laddie. “Yo, Laddie-boy, go find Paulie Pocket’s drug money stash.” “Yes, sir, David.” The child stood up, pausing long enough to put his toys in a neat row just under the chair Dwayne perched in, and rushed off to do as he was asked. Dwayne smiled after him and stood to see if David wanted help shaking Marko down.

Upon seeing how utterly outnumbered he was, the blonde rascal sighed and dug around in the breast pocket of that ratty old jacket he never got around to letting go of and handed David a twenty dollar bill. “That’s all I got, other than some dryer lint and a bus token.” A pale hand reached down and plucked it from the gloved one holding it up.

“Thank you, my good bitch. Laddie, how’s it going over there?” David tucked the bill into his coat and turned to see if he could see Laddie’s little head bobbing around somewhere in the mess that was Paul’s den. “Good, I think. I found a baggie of money, but my foot got stuck in something slimy.” Hearing this propelled Star into action, rushing to make sure the baby of their group was okay.

Luckily, he was, though his tattered old converse would never be the same again. “Here you go, Davey.” Laddie beamed proudly up at David, holding up a sandwich bag that easily held two grand. “Thanks, Little Lamb. How about you and Star go down to the Boardwalk and play for a little while, and we’ll come get you when it’s feeding time.” The proposition was well received, and a smiling Star ended up getting half dragged out of the cavern her little brother.

“Now, we have retribution from Paul. We’ve got retribution from Marko. Looks like it’s Dwayne’s turn.” The tall blonde turned to smile at his darker friend. Up until that point, Dwayne had really just been hanging out in the back looking bored, but upon hearing that he was also in trouble, his facial expression turned to one of shock. “And what exactly did I do?” He asked. “You sat back and let those bozos touch my things. As my right hand guy, I expect more from you.” Dwayne heaved a sigh and began reaching for his wallet.

“Relax, I’m not gonna rob you of your stolen cash. But you’re gonna be in charge of going downtown and picking up a new record for me.” 

That was like a fate worse than death to Dwayne. “I think I’d rather be robbed, to be honest.” “You’re picking it up for me. End of discussion. Is Vinnie’s shop still open?” 

“Closed down in 2009. But I think there’s a newer record stop not far from the Boardwalk. It’s called Mozart’s or something.” Paul, who still lay in a heap of long limbs and wild hair, spoke up in a slurred voice. “Damn, here I was hoping Vinnie would still be kicking. Alright, well, I’ll deal with it another day. Let’s go meet the others at the Boardwalk and get this party started.”

Upon the mention of their favorite hang out, Marko and Paul sprung to their feet and all but flew out of the cavern with loud whoops. Dwayne hung back with David, walking over to where he’d thrown his jacket on one of the arms of the fallen chandelier.

“Just so you know, David, you’re never gonna live this down.” “Live what down, smart ass?” The blonde snorted. “Liking the Smiths.” “Hey, they’re a good band, shove off.”

Dwayne only laughed some more. “Yeah, ‘good’. Maybe if you’re a whiny gay kid stuck on the 90’s and going through a bad breakup.” 

Hearing the oddly specific insult caused David to still. Turning in order to look his brother in the eye, David said only one word: “Madonna.”

Dark brown eyes grew wide with terror upon hearing his darkest secret spoken aloud. “You shut your whore mouth.” was all the vampire could say before brushing past his elder to make sure neither of the other guys dinged up his bike in their excitement to go out. David only smiled after him.

OooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooO

To anyone else, the idea of spending the first week of vacation cleaning a filthy apartment from top to bottom would have been preposterous. A fate worse than death, even.

But to Julian, it was actually really enjoyable. Chrissie helped as much as she was able, and it was wonderful to see how much happier she looked as more and more of her apartment became livable again. “Damn, I didn’t even know I had a second bedroom, I just thought this was a closet!” She laughed while grabbing a couple of trash bags that Julian had filled up with junk.

“How did you not know about an entire room? Didn’t the people who lived here before clean it up before selling? You didn’t actually just move in here, trash and all, right?” He followed his cousin out to the curb where they added to the mountain of crap that needed to be taken to a dump and pulled off the yellow rubber gloves he’d pulled on for protection.

Chrissie shrugged, reaching down to adjust her ratty jeans. She or someone she knew had taken a bunch of sharpies and written all over the denim material, with messages that ranged from “#1 Ho” to what Julian could only assume was a rough sketch of that one Spongebob meme that got really popular a while back, where he’s bent over with his arms folded in like chicken wings and pulling a stupid face.

“When I first got here, I’d actually had a roommate who’d been living here before me. I’m pretty sure a lot of this mess was hers, she was in even worse shape than me. She got sentenced twenty to life for arson or something.” 

“How lovely,” Julian commentated sarcastically. “Hey, she was a pretty cool bitch, all things considered. Could have done without all the guys she’d have stay overnight, but whatever.”

Walking back into the apartment and seeing what a massive difference they had made in only a few days, Julian felt himself swell up with pride. “Guess this means you won’t be crashing on my couch after all. We can start setting it all up and making it nice and roomy for you tomorrow,” Chrissie suggested. “It’s almost noon and I have to go open up shop.” 

“You want me to come with you? I don’t mind starting off today.” “You mean it? I figured you would have been pretty wiped from all that cleaning.” Julian shook his head. “It’s fine. I like the distraction.” The young woman glanced down at the phone in her hand and huffed a little. “Julian, please don’t go and work yourself to death. I meant what I said about you going and having fun.”

Julian chuckled at the almost motherly demeanor Chrissie directed at him and pulled her into a one armed hug. “I know! I will, eventually, get out and have fun. But it’ll be my kind of fun, not yours.”

Chrissie pulled away from the hug a little with a confused expression, crossing her arms across her chest. “And just what does that mean, huh?” “It means not everyone’s idea of fun is getting shit faced on the beach and moshing with your drug dealer.” Julian replied with a sly grin. “Hey, you leave Joey alone, he’s pretty cool. And for your information, moshing and getting shit faced on the beach is a perfectly fun evening.”

“For you, maybe. But for me, that sounds like a nightmare. All the shouting and loud music, thousands of bodies crowding around you, flashing lights. Pure nightmare fuel.” Chrissie groaned. “God, why are you such a straight edge? How can you honestly sit there and tell me you’ve never once wanted to just let go and smash a few faces in at a rock show? I mean seriously! What do you consider a ‘fun night’ then? Sitting up with a cup of tea and reading Jane Austen?”

“Actually,” Julian answered, “that sounds like a pretty nice night in. But no, I promise I won’t be Straight Edge Sally ™ all summer. I’d just prefer to settle in and maybe get to know a few people before I go and try starting any trouble.” 

Chrissie studied him for a moment, hazel eyes scanning every inch of his face in an attempt to figure out if he was lying or not. “Promise?” “Cross my heart.”

The dynamic duo stood still for a moment, leaned up against the counter in that awkward one armed hug. Then she nodded, standing up straight and reaching over to give him a slap on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go open shop.”

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Chrissie’s shop, “Mozart’s Record Store”, stood proudly in all its garish glory about two streets down from Santa Carla’s world famous Boardwalk. It was squeezed between a vegan supermarket and a small business called “Joe and Millie’s Tattoo Parlor”.

It stood out from everyone else’s shop due to the fact that it was painted solid black and was covered in neon signs. The windows lining the front of her store were covered in vinyl record sleeves, some pretty well known records like: Nevermind, Abbey Road, The Dark Side of the Moon. And then there were a bunch of more obscure records that Julian had never heard of.

Pulling out a ring of keys from her pocket, Chrissie walked up to the front door of her shop looking like a proud mother, and Julian followed behind her in awe. The spell broke once he heard the jingle of a bell, indicating she got the door open, and he turned to see her holding it wide open for him. “Come on in,” She grinned.

On the inside, there stood rows upon rows of music, stretching all the way towards the very back of the shop and lining all four walls, top to bottom. Dead ahead from the door was the checkout counter, which was decorated with band stickers and people’s signatures.

“Those are from all the musicians who kicked off their careers by playing shows down by the beach. Because I’m one of the only successful shops on this side of town, a lot of bands make deals with me; I sell their merch and put in a good word for them with my customers, and I can a third of the proceeds.” Chrissie explained as she watched Julian crouch down to read the names. “Cool…”

Following the maze of shelves, a dark, slender finger scaled along the spines of the vinyls, stopping now and then to pull one or two out to read the artist name. He was surprised to see a few non-punk rock/ alternative artists like Madonna, Prince, and newer ones like Adele and a whole bunch of foreign artists. “Quite the array of genres there, Chris.”

She laughed. “I know, but it’s not just the punk rockers who like sticking to their vinyl roots. Hipsters like coming in and getting their favorite albums to prop around their room for Tumblr pictures. ‘Do it for the aesthetic’, ya know?”

“That doesn’t bother you?” Julian asked, turning to watch her fiddle with some stuff at check out. “No, should it?” “I don’t know, I just feel like that might be a bit disrespectful. Why buy something meant for ‘practical use’ if you’re only gonna hang it around like a decoration, right?” 

Chrissie glanced at him before wrapping up whatever she was doing at the counter. Turning to face him proper, she reached back and flipped on her computer before striding towards the back. “Music is music, there’s no one right way to enjoy it. If someone wants to buy the vinyls I sell and use them for decoration, who am I to judge? That’s just how they choose to show their love for a specific artist or genre.”

There was a moment’s pause as she reached over a shopping cart full of all the new arrivals in need of stocking (which Julian assumed was going to be one of his first jobs) and switched on the lights to better illuminate the store.

“Music is awesome because the artist makes it for everyone. The songs and albums can have as much, or as little meaning behind them as you want it to. Some people believe music is sacred, it has all these meanings and you have to be of an intellectual standing to really get it. And that, my good Julian, is an elitist mindset that I, as an Afro-punk, do not abide by.”

“‘Afro-punk’? Is that what we’re calling it now?” Julian grinned at Chrissie, who pulled a face in answer. “Just get your butt over here so I can start showing you the ropes, dumb-shit.”

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Dwayne grumbled to himself as he pulled his bike away from the others. In order to appease his asshole older brother (and in order to protect his previously mentioned dark secret) Dwayne had decided to get his annoying errand done and over with. 

Mozart’s stood in the same plaza that Vinnie’s once stood in, only it was on the opposite end towards the left. Approaching it, it didn’t look half bad. He could appreciate the bold aesthetic choice of going with an all black building. He kept his bike as close to the shop as he could get, knowing it would help him make a quick getaway. 

What? He wasn’t gonna pay for a stupid record, especially a Smiths record.Plus, he was an immortal vampire. He was kinda above the constraints of mortal law and good morals now, wasn’t he? 

Entering the shop, it smelt a lot cleaner than Vinnie’s shop every did. What was it about stoners and heroin addicts that made a place smell so musty? This shop almost smelt like lemongrass and clove cigarettes. The scent was strongest at the counter, where a young woman was standing. 

She was beautiful, but had a very “Don’t-fuck-with-me” attitude, which Dwayne liked. Her hair was slightly coarse and fell in a mess of cinnamon colored curls over one shoulder. The other side was clipped to the scalp, and showed off a variety of piercings in her ear. Makeup was minimal but did wonders for her darker complexion; black eye shadow and a deep red shade of lipstick. The bright metal of her facial piercings glowed under the harsh florescent lights. Her gaze flicked up to regard him and she gave a quick nod before looking back down at whatever she was reading. 

Dwayne silently walked past, turning his gaze to regard the ratty clothing she wore. He recognized the denim jacket that sat over the back of her chair behind the counter. It was dark black and covered in patches with bizarre band names and illustrations, and he had seen it bouncing around the Boardwalk on more than one occasion. Mostly he’d seen it frequently the heavy rock and punk shows, but occasionally it could be seen at more light hearted or “pop-centric” shows that would pop up in the springtime. 

Smiling a bit, he made his way towards the back. Having no idea how this shop was set up, or where he’d even find The Smiths, he decided he would look around for a few minutes and if he still couldn’t find it he’d go ahead and ask the girl for help. 

While looking through the sections, he wondered if she was working alone. If she was, he could always eat a little early. David wouldn’t mind, especially not if he still ended up with a new record in the end. 

Lazily, Dwayne stalked around the store, trailing a finger along the rainbow of albums put up on the shelves. He was almost all the way to the back of the store, and took a very sudden left turn at the end of one of longer shelves towards the far right, and was startled to see another figure, crouched down out of sight as they stocked. 

They turned to stare him in equal surprise (after all, it was nine at night, he didn’t actually think anyone would come in) before smiling. “Hi, can I help you?” Dwayne blinked. “Uh, ‘Meat is Murder’?” He watched the persons dark eyebrows scrunched together as they regarded him. “Is that the band?” 

“Band?...Oh, no, uh, The Smiths. The album is called ‘Meat is Murder’.” 

They laughed. “Okay, one second.” Gently, the person brushed past him, and Dwayne caught the scent of sandalwood and sea salt. He watched them approach the young woman up front, and saw that the two were definitely related. Same nose, same wild hair. But for the life of him, Dwayne could not tell if this other person was a guy or a girl. 

They looked very androgynous, sharp jawline, wide brown eyes, their hair not quite as long as their relative’s, but long enough to form a sort of halo around their rather pleasant face. It just seemed like every time he spotted a definitely masculine or definitely feminine feature, he saw something else to counteract it. Chest was definitely flat, but their hips were a little wider, though they hid the fact underneath a pair of looser fitting light blue overalls and a bright colored Hawaiian shirt. 

They were cute. And when Dwayne thought someone was cute, that meant he just had to mess with them a little. 

“Hey, Chrissie, you got any Smiths albums? This gentleman says he’s looking for ‘Meat is Murder’.” The young woman thought for a moment. “We got The Smiths, but I don’t know if we have that specific album in right now. Let me check in the back. One sec.” She left the pair alone, her keys jangling from on hand as he muttered something to herself. The younger of the two smile at him before turning to go back to stocking in the far corner. 

“I haven’t seen you around here, you new?” Surprised at being asked a personal question, they awkwardly nodded with a small smile. “Visiting for the summer. Get some downtime before college, you know?” Dwayne nodded, hands in the pockets of his worn out dark blue jeans. “You got a name?” 

“...Julian. I’m Chrissie’s cousin.” They held out a hand. Dwayne smirked and grasped it. “Dwayne. I’m the local troublemaker.” Julian smiled at that. "Very nice to meet you, Dwayne the local troublemaker." 

“Well, no ‘Meat is Murder’, but I can put in an order for you and call you when it gets in.” Chrissie chose just then to walk in, causing Julian to shyly pull away and take a few steps away from Dwayne. He mourned the loss of closeness for a moment before turning to regard her. “I don’t have a phone, unfortunately. But I don't mind coming back in a few days and checking then.” 

Chrissie stared at him for a moment, sharp eyes regarding all his handsome features. “You’re in that one biker gang, aren’t you? The one that hang around the Boardwalk?” 

Dwayne, who had shoved his hands back in his jean pockets, chuckled and turned to look at his bike through the shop window. “What gave it away?” She poked the arm of his riding jacket, the one with a wildcat painted on it. “I’d recognize that tacky thing anywhere. You guys aren’t exactly known for paying for your shit. So how do I know you’re not gonna try and pull a fast one?” 

Julian, who had previously been borderline transfixed by the stranger, now looked a tad worried. The dark haired vampire grinned over at the sweet-faced...person (he still couldn’t quite tell if they were a guy or a girl, not that something like that would stop him from pursuing them) and pulled out his wallet. “Relax, I’m good for it. I’ll check in again in a few days.” He flicked his gaze back to Chrissie before returning them to Julian. “I’ll see you then.” Before striding back to the front and out of the door. He swung his leg over his bike to straddle it and switched on the engine, watching the duo through the tinted glass of the front door before racing out of the parking lot. He was hungry now, and something told him he didn’t want to kill these two. Not yet, anyways. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry. I was the one who wanted to reboot this story, and then I just go and abandon it again after only one chapter. Luckily it's summer and I don't start community college until August, so I have literally nothing distracting me from this story (except maybe work) 
> 
> Quick side note, before continuing on to what I wanted to tell you guys, I'd like to quickly say that I really hope you guys don't mind that I made Julian androgynous. I was just having a hard time getting into the mindset of a regular cis guy, and as someone who is androgynous myself, I have a slightly easier time writing him. I'm sorry if that offends or upsets anyone, and you're allowed to discontinue reading if you really can't stand it, but I hope you all don't mind my playing around with elements of gender identity along with Julian's sexual identity in this story.
> 
> Now, because I don't really frequent this site a whole lot, I know it might be a bit hard to contact me, so I wanted to let anyone who might be interested know that I do actually have Tumblr if you need me. My name is The Once And Future Twat. 
> 
> But that's only if you want to yell at me for not updating, I'm not gonna ask you guys to follow. It's not exactly the world's most interesting blog, since I post a lot about old writers and Frankenstein and art history.
> 
> But if you do want to follow, feel free to say hi, or yell at me for abandoning my story! Or don't, I don't care, do what you want! Just let me know if you like how the updated storyline is going or if there's anything I can improve on!


	3. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian gets a lecture on safety; Dwayne has a discussion with Star.

“The Lost Boys? You mean like in Peter Pan?” Julian stared at his cousin incredulously, making her laugh. “Yup, mostly because they don’t really seem to age? Like, I’ve met a few people who have been here a while and they confirm that they all look almost exactly the same as they day they first saw them. Except for that one, he’s like really tall and kinda on the lanky side. You’d know him if you saw him. According to Joey, when he first came here his hair was like this really ugly shade of green. I think one of his little friends did it as a prank.”

After Dwayne had left the shop, Julian found himself feeling a little light headed. He would never had thought he’d ever get giddy at the idea of a boy before, and he was having a hard time getting his grip on reality back. Chrissie caught on when she saw him still kinda smiling and blushing as he worked, ten minutes after shop closed. And it was then she knew she’d really ought to give him the low down on what she knew about Dwayne and his gang of Lost Boys (not that there was much info to share, they were pretty mysterious and to themselves).

“Look, Jules, I know I said ‘go out and get into some trouble’, but maybe you should try dodging this one. There’s just this weird vibe around them, I don’t like it. And you know it’s gotta be serious, if even I won’t even fuck with these guys.”

That was a fair point. Chrissie was a chill girl who could hold her own against even the toughest of them. So if she was warning him off, saying that they freaked her out and had dangerous vibes, it definitely had to be bad. But still…

“I don’t know, Chris, he seemed nice.” Julian glanced over at the darkened windows and could see his reflection staring back at him. He had perched himself on top of one of the lower shelves towards the middle of the store, just behind the counter. Chrissie sat with her feet kicked up by the register, counting money. “I didn’t get any weird vibes from him.”

She snorted. “Yeah, cause you were too busy giggling like a schoolgirl. I could sorta see you two out here. Hell, that’s why I didn’t want to leave you guys alone while I was back looking for the record. I didn’t want him seducing you and make you do lord knows what with that little group of his.” 

Julian glanced away, feeling the heat rise up his neck again. This time though, it was more so out of embarrassment than elation. Chrissie saw how her cousin seemed to wilt, looking like a kicked puppy. The young woman sighed, pushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. 

“You know I’m not a rules person, Jules, so go ahead and do what you want. Just, please be careful. You can’t trust every person who stops to flirt with you in the real world. Especially in a place like Santa Carla.”

Dropping her feet back to the ground with a dull thud, she huffed out a sigh and put the money into a lock box that had been hidden on the floor, beneath the front counter. “Well, all and all that wasn’t a bad sales day, considering we opened almost four hours late.” She smiled over at Julian and held out a hand. “Shall we go home?”

Feeling a bit better now that he was no longer getting lectured on dating safety, Julian hopped to his feet and grabbed onto his temporary guardian’s hand. “Home sounds perfect.”

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Dwayne parked his bike with the rest of the group’s and scanned the crowd of faces to see if he could spot any of the Stooges. 

There were easily thirty or forty people milling about the entrance alone, and he made a snide mental comment about how tragedy never seemed to come out of style. People could make fun of the eighties and nineties all they wanted to, but when future generations looked back at the fashion choices of younger millennials and generation Z, there would be literal tears in their eyes.

Laddie could be seen hopping around in line for one of The Boardwalks’ many famous rides, Star stood not far behind. That day’s outfit consisted of a white linen top, one of those ones that gets cut off two inches above the belly button and had sleeves that went off her shoulders. He snorted at the sight of her “mom jeans”, which she swears are back in fashion. 

Silently, he snuck up behind the duo and gently pulled on the ponytail the young woman had tied her hair back into. The huge eighties ‘do had long ago been replaced by long, gentle waves, her youthful face framed by dark bangs.

“Hey, cut it out!” She turned, anger flashing in her eyes, before she realized who it was. He saw her visibly relax for a moment before letting out sound of sarcastic offense.

“Jeez, Dwayne, you scared me!” She exclaimed, gently slapping his arm. “Doesn’t take much, now, does it?” he laughed. 

“Dwayne, Dwayne!” Laddie had taken notice of his second favorite person ever (no one would ever come before Star, and all the boys had come to terms with that) and rushed forward to throw his skinny little arms around Dwayne’s waist. The older boy ran his fingers through his little brother’s hair, which had been cut short on the sides, but stayed longer on the top. 

“Hey buddy, you weren’t having too much fun without me, were you?”

“Star and I rode a bunch of rides, and look what I won at one of the game stalls!” He reached into the pocket of his little riding jacket, and held up a small stuffed bear, the garish color of cotton candy. It was cheaply made, with poor stitching holding the poor thing together. It’s head had more stuffing in it than the rest of its body, making it considerably top heavy.

 

“Nice,” was the best compliment he could come up with, but it did the trick. The young boy grinned broadly, putting it back into the massive pocket Star had stitched into his riding jacket for safekeeping, before returning to his hyperactive jumping. “Come on, Star! It’s our turn!” Laddie pulled on her arm, attempting to get her to move forward as the rest of the crowd surged ahead. 

“I think I’m gonna sit this one out, baby. I’ll be right here with Dwayne, you go have fun!” His face went slack for a moment at being told to ride alone, but the bright smile he always seemed to don quickly returned as he gave her a quick hug and rushed off to claim his seat. He waved to the two older vampires, who grinned and waved back, just as the ride began and his sweet face vanished into a blur of color and light.

Star sighed, leaning her back against a light pole that stood behind them, decorated with the blank, staring faces of Santa Carla’s missing youth. 

“MISSING: Manolo and Eddie Vasquez, aged 6 and 8, last seen May 3rd, 2017. If you have any information, please contact-” A neon green poster advertising an up and coming heavy metal band covered up part of the contact information, rendering the ad beneath pretty useless.

Dwayne looked away, making a note to go and see how Manolo and Eddie were holding up. Last he checked, they were hanging out in the more rundown area of Santa Carla, just outside of the ‘suburban’ district about two or three miles east. His attention turned back to his female companion. 

“So, you spot anything good for dinner tonight?” She met his gaze, before flicking it towards something over his shoulder.

“11 o’clock. A couple of guys have been following Laddie and I since we got here.”

Pulling a cigarette from his breast pocket, Dwayne pretended to look for a lighter and cast a glance in the other direction. Sure enough, there stood about three older guys. Buff, faded prison tattoos, all caucasian and reaked of stale beer. They tried way too hard to look innocent, like they weren’t totally staring holes into Star’s head before Dwayne arrived.

“Heard them catcalling a couple of other girls, figured why the hell not?” Star added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear whilst focusing her attentions on the ride ahead of her. “No one would miss them. You find anything?”

He smirked. “Not exactly.” His rare change is stoic demeanor did not go unnoticed. She turned back to him, eyebrow arched. “Oh? And what exactly does that mean?” The young man shrugged. “Went on my errand for David,” he began, pausing to light the cancer stick balanced on his lips.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Did you get the record?” 

“Didn’t have the album on them. Met some people of interest, though.” 

Dwayne thought back to Julian, how completely opposite they were to Chrissie. One looking as though she could crush your skull and use your blood for her bath, the other one...the other one what?

There was a softness to them, the kind you see in someone that grew up in a protective home, in a white picket fence neighborhood. They just had that general vibe of naivety about them. People like that, they were hands down the most fun to mess with. Mostly because, unlike the kids like Dwayne and his brothers, they wanted to lash out and go wild (though it wasn’t always a desire they were consciously aware of) but didn’t know how. 

They were scared. Scared to hurt their families, scared they would accidentally go too far. And it was fun, watching them squirm and internally debate. And Dwayne got a kick out of playing to the sheltered kid’s image of a ‘Bad Boy ™ ‘. It was a sick game that he never grew bored of.

Star shook her head in amazement. “Well, they must be something to peak your interest. I take it you’re gonna hold off on the kill?” He nodded, taking a silent drag. “You might wanna consider finding someone else then, before David and the boys wipe out all of tonight’s tourists and homeless kids on the menu. Laddie and I aren’t sharing.”

“There are three guys there, Star. You can spare one of them.” Plucking the cigarette from Dwayne’s fingers, Star shook her head and took a quick puff herself before putting it out, motioning towards the “No Smoking” sign put up not far from them. 

“No, I cannot. You know Laddie needs more blood than the rest of us, and he’s a sloppy eater. It’ll take more than one guy to feed him and I’m not going out to hunt a second time tonight.” Dwayne gave her another annoyed look.

“Okay, so why not just let him go out hunting on his own? He’s been like this for almost forty years, isn’t it about time he tries doing this stuff on his own?” Dwayne had no idea why Star was so freakishly overprotective of Laddie, but he had the feeling that maybe David or Max had something to do with it.

She glanced around, making sure no one was listening before dropping her voice. “David, that’s why.” Bingo. “What about David? Did he tell you Laddie isn’t allowed to hunt on his own?”

Ahead of them, the ride was beginning to come to the big finale, taking it’s final dramatic spin as the lights and music increased to a crescendo. Star looked rather pretty bathed in the varying shades of reds and oranges, it complemented the look of anxiety she wore.

“Laddie’s little, and I don’t think David’s too keen on losing him and the loyalty he helps inspire among us. It might have something to do with keeping me here. Or you.”

Dwayne scoffed. “As if I would go anywhere.” Star shot him a look. “You’re telling me you’ve never thought about packing it all up and leaving? Not once?” He chose the remain silent at that. Sure, he liked Star, but not enough to go spilling his secrets to.

“Well, whatever the reason, David says absolutely no hunting on his own. Must be his way of keeping Laddie dependent on us. Or maybe it’s just trying to keep our cover, in case Laddie loses his cool and goes on a killing spree. Who knows, this is David we’re talking about here.” She added after Dwayne’s uncomfortable pause.

“Did I hear my name? My ears are burning.” In came David, with his shaven blonde head and signature jacket. He smiled over at Star and leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, sliding a pale hand across her shoulders and coming to a rest towards the small of her back. “Hi, David,” Star smiled, suppressing her nerves to the best of her ability. The leader didn’t seem to pick up on anything being amiss.

Turning to Dwayne, his eyebrow arched. “Did you get my record?” He shook his head. “Didn’t have it in stock. I’ll go back in a few days.”

David sighed. “Oh, don’t bother, I’ll just-”

“I don’t mind.” Dwayne interrupted.

This gave David reason to pause, staring at his little brother. Before he could say anything about the very uncharacteristic move (Dwayne didn’t talk much, and if he did have something say he always waited for the other person to finish), Marko and Paul sauntered up, just as Laddie clambered off the ride. 

“Looks like the gang’s all back together! Is it feeding time now?” Paul asked, stretching his long limbs out and clamping down on Dwayne and Marko’s shoulders. Star stepped away, taking up Laddie’s hand.

“We’ve already got our eyes on someone, you guys can go ahead without us. They’ll be easier to hunt if it’s just the two of us.” David let her go after another quick kiss on the lips and giving Laddie a ruffle through his hair. 

“You take care of her, little lamb.” He told the boy. Laddie nodded with a grin, always happy when David gave him a ‘mission’ or task to complete. 

Marko watches them leave, quietly muttering “And then there were four.” 

The group stood still, waiting for David to decide their next move. The crowds parted around them, like a stinking sea of mortality. Dwayne was starting to become more acutely aware of how hungry he was getting.

“It’s feeding time, boys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter isn't quite up to par, and I apologize. Ya boi was hospitalized, got their high school diploma, and celebrated becoming a full grown adult (scary effing thought) all in the span of a week and a half. But luckily, the pain medication gave me some great ideas for following chapters, so here's to hoping things get better from here. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is the first chapter of the reworked story. Our boys will definitely be in the next chapter, and it's safe to say that I changed a lot from the original story. Basically, I'm trying to have a bit more fun and make it light hearted (or as light hearted as a story about vampires who enjoy killing people can really be) 
> 
> Let me know how you like it so far, and I'll try and get the next chapter done in a reasonable amount of time. Just try and be patient with me, much like Julian, I'm struggling to ready myself for college (and in a completely different country, on top of that) so I'm trying to juggle my just-for-fun writing with building up my art portfolio, dealing with paperwork, as well as trying to teach myself a foreign language. So I may not be too consistent with the updates, we'll see.


End file.
